


you are familiar (in ways that i'm looking for)

by MinSeulgi



Series: Monsta X Bingo Autumn 2016 [2]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Drunken Shenanigans, Emotions, How the Fuck Do I Tag, Humor, M/M, Monsta X Bingo, Slow Burn, i'm kiho trash so just fight me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-08-08 16:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7764685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinSeulgi/pseuds/MinSeulgi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The smile drops, but only slightly. There’s something off about it now, like the stranger knows something Kihyun doesn’t, like he knows something sad, something disheartening, and he’s only just able to keep it to himself.</p><p>“You would be an incredible angel.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. fuori dalla notte (out of the night)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jjokkiri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjokkiri/gifts).



> **edit** For Iri. Thanks for writing again and blessing the fandom with...everything, honestly. There's not a single thing about what you've done that I don't love and constantly feel grateful for. I'm constantly thrilled that I was the one that made you feel the _feels_ again, and I hope you never stop writing. Never let go of the things that make you happy. Put them aside and come back to them, but never truly let them go.
> 
> This is part of [this](http://monstaxfanfic.tumblr.com/post/147089948979/monsta-x-sunny-summer-fic-bingo) Monsta X fic bingo! 
> 
> Inspired in part by the [Stuck](http://fymonsta-x.tumblr.com/tagged/era%3A-stuck) concept pictures, particularly those for Hyunwoo, Hyungwon, and Hoseok.
> 
> Soundtrack this time was more Secret and Whisper (particularly You Are Familiar, which I pulled the title from), Nuvole Bianche (again, from Ludovico Einaudi's Taranta Project album, because _lyrics_ , and it will come into play later tbh b/c Kihyun is totes a music major), the Game of Thrones soundtrack, and Some Nights (cover by Christina Grimmie for The Voice).

When Jackson Wang had extended the invite to his annual Halloween party, Kihyun hadn’t really thought much of it other than _cool_. Jackson’s parties were legendary, the talk of the school – and often the town – in the week or so following the event, and while Kihyun had never gone before, often too busy studying for some class, or jury, or another, the fact that Jackson had pointed invited him this time made him a little more compelled to attend this year. Granted, that compulsion might also have something to do with the way Minhyuk’s eyes had lit up when describing how Jackson had asked him following a dance practice, and the way Jooheon had grinned like madman when recounting the previous year’s shenanigans. 

And it wasn’t like they had anything better to do. As juniors in college, Kihyun and Minhyuk were both too busy with their projects and classes to focus on having a social life. Kihyun was a music major, emphasis on both voice and piano, and between a myriad of classes, practices for his junior recital and for other recitals he guest appears at, and his few extracurricular activities, Kihyun had no time for an active social life. Besides, he saw the music and theater students often enough, and that was enough for him.

Minhyuk, on the other hand, was double majoring in theater and dance, and save for the few classes he and Kihyun shared each day, Kihyun only ever saw Minhyuk at dinner and when they were both returning to their shared room for the night. By eight in the morning when Kihyun would be rolling over to swat as the alarm meant to get him out of bed for his music history class, Minhyuk would be gone for the day

Jooheon, as a sophomore, was something of an anomaly, having figured out how to balance academics, a social life, and sleep. Secretly, Kihyun believed that Jooheon had somehow either figured out the secret to living on two hours of sleep each night, or he was a vampire. Only the fact that Jooheon thrived on sunlight swayed Kihyun away from favoring the latter option. He, too, was a music major, focusing on composition and lyric production. If he had his way, he’d graduate and go to work for some top notch entertainment company or another.

And Changkyun, precious Changkyun, was still just a freshman, capable of balancing academics, sleep, an active social life, and a number of extracurriculars and clubs, all without feeling the oppressive weight of too-much-to-do-no-time-to-do-it. It probably helped that he was undecided and only taking gen eds and a couple basic music courses, but it wouldn’t help for long.

As a savvy college student and the resident mother of the four of them, the approach of Halloween had been Kihyun’s time to step up and let them know that trick-or-treating was no longer an accepted past-time. Minhyuk had been unbothered, having worked through Halloween the year before. Jooheon and Changkyun, however, still children at heart, had been devastated, even with Kihyun’s promise to buy them a bucket full of candy on the first of November to make up for it.

The fact that they’d brightened so considerably at Jackson’s request meant Kihyun couldn’t not go, if only to keep an eye on them both. Now, though…. Now Kihyun might regret it a little bit. Or a lot.

“Holy shit,” Changkyun breathes as the four of them stop outside the gates of what can only be described as a mansion. And it is a mansion, complete with a winding drive, sprawling lawn and gardens, and so many windows on this side of the house that it probably takes days to wash them all.

“Jooheon.” Kihyun glances sideways at his friend, eyebrow arching. “What was it that Jackson’s parents do for a living?”

Jooheon can’t tear his eyes away from the house for a moment, staring in mute surprise. “Uh. Government work, I think. A higher government.”

Changkyun is the first to speak after that, voice a startled squawk. “His parents are _spies_?”

Kihyun sighs, raking a hand through his hair. He winces when Minhyuk smacks him, lips set in a frown. “I just  styled that! You’re supposed to look like a hot angel, not like a mental patient with wings.” Kihyun frowns, raking a hand through his hair once more, just to piss Minhyuk off, then dances out of reach with a laugh when Minhyuk swats at him again. Their antics are enough to put Jooheon and Changkyun back at some sort of ease, and with Jooheon leading the way – chased by Minhyuk for the way he’d tousled the blond’s styled locks – they head up the driveway.

Five minutes later finds Kihyun with a beer and without three friends. As soon as they’d entered the house, Jackson had greeted them, then whisked Jooheon away to look at the system the DJ was using. Minhyuk had disappeared soon after, making a beeline for the room where the bass pulsed the loudest. He’s still visible through the doorway, his shock of blond hair and dark blue hoodie making him easy to see even among the many bodies. Changkyun had slipped away from Kihyun’s side soon after, going in search of something non-alcoholic and what looked like one of his friends from class. It leaves Kihyun alone, but he finds that he doesn’t mind, slipping into the kitchen for a drink and to listen to conversation without the music drowning it all out.

He recognizes some of the people hanging in the kitchen – a girl from his Music History course, a girl and guy from his choir class, another girl from his piano course – and before too long, Kihyun finds himself drawn into their discussion of movie and tv show soundtracks and which one is the best.

Kihyun is in the middle of an increasingly heated argument on the topic of instrumental soundtracks and studying when the weight of an arm drapes around his shoulders. Assuming that Jooheon had been released from Jackson’s conversation or that Changkyun had become worried when he hadn’t made an appearance in another room, Kihyun doesn’t bother to brush it away, focusing on the topic at hand.

“The concept behind instrumental music is that it gives sustenance to the scene in question, building the tension or helping to direct attention to the focus moment. It’s better in this regard than something with lyrics to it because lyrics can draw _away_ from the focus while something instrumental isn’t as likely to. For example, when Character B finds out that Character J and Character C are in an incestuous relationship and Character C is also married.”

The person at his side stiffens, then releases a breathy _hah_ of laughter. Then there are lips at his ear, and if Kihyun weren’t so intent on his topic, he might have jumped. “Did you just reference Game of Thrones?”

“Maybe.”

They’re quiet for a moment, but then the lips are back, pressed to the shell of his ear, and Kihyun’s lips purse because it’s enough to tell him that this is probably Changkyun, because the little shit has no respect for Kihyun’s personal boundaries while both Jooheon and Minhyuk know he’s not afraid to smack them away for being too close and touchy. It’s only Changkyun that manages to pout and whine his way out of the dubious honor.

“I didn’t think that scene had music to it. It’s been a while since I watched, though. I might be wrong. Maybe you should come back to my place, watch it with me?”

It’s a combination of the words and the voice itself that finally has Kihyun turning, exasperation written on his features. “Changkyun, we practically _live_ together. And you hate Game of—”

It’s not Changkyun.

It’s not anyone Kihyun knows.

As far as men go, he’s pretty. Hair blond that’s been messily styled with distinct care. Pale skin that looks like it hasn’t seen sunlight in months. Straight nose. Full lips pulled back into a grin that begs trouble. He’s pretty. Very pretty. And completely Kihyun’s type.

If he had a type.

Yoo Kihyun does not have a type.

“Holy shit! Where the hell you come from?”

There’s another low laugh, and Kihyun can’t even begin to fathom what’d he’d said that was funny. “Not so much. I thought angels couldn’t swear.”

Kihyun blinks, dumbstruck. “What?”

The male at his side is still grinning, a grin that’s somehow all teeth and sly intentions. “You’re an angel, right?” A pale hand reaches out, slender fingers tugging on one of the feathered appendages that are currently strapped to Kihyun’s back. He’d forgotten all about them, and it shows. The grin widens. “I thought angels couldn’t swear.”

Kihyun’s at a loss, and the thought of asking for help from a classmate comes to him, but when he glances to the side, they’ve continued on with the conversation without him. The only one paying them any mind is the girl from his music history course, and all she does when he meets her eyes is grin. Traitor.

A warm hand at his cheek turns his attention back to the stranger, and Kihyun damns the heat that rises to his cheeks, trying to cover it with a frown. “I’m not actually an angel. I would make a horrible angel. It’s just a costume for the party.”

The smile drops, but only slightly. There’s something off about it now, like the stranger knows something Kihyun doesn’t, like he knows something sad, something disheartening, and he’s only just able to keep it to himself.

“You would be an incredible angel.”

***

It takes Kihyun a moment to free himself from the weight of the stranger’s arm. It also takes him a moment to walk away. These are moments Kihyun later denies existed at all as he slips out of the kitchen, a new beer in hand, and heads into the living room. It only takes a couple minutes to find Jooheon and Changkyun. The two of them had managed to somehow find fruit juice – probably from Jackson himself, a hidden personal stash kept from the party at large – and had taken over one of the couches to talk music and play games. The cards for Cards Against Humanity sit in stacks in front of them and half a dozen others, and Kihyun takes long enough to survey the scene and make sure the two are doing fine before moving on in search of Minhyuk.

It takes ten minutes of searching every room on the lower level, including the kitchen he’d just vacated, before Kihyun returns to where Jooheon and Changkyun are still playing.

“Where’s Min?”

Jooheon glances up first, expression scrunching. “What?”

“Minhyuk,” Kihyun clarifies, pushing a hand back through his hair. “My roommate. Your hallmate. Your best friend. Where is Minhyuk?”

Jooheon stands, and when he can’t see enough, he steps up onto the couch. The players around him duck away and cover their hands, laughing, but Jooheon pays them little mind, caught on the mission at hand. Eventually, he steps down, shooting Kihyun a guilty look. “I don’t see him. Earlier he was dancing with these two guys. These were enjoying themselves, so I figured he’d be fine.” Jooheon looks guilty. So guilty. And Kihyun sighs, shaking his head.

“I’ll find him,” he murmurs. “Sit down. Play your game.”

When Kihyun turns away, he finds himself face to face with the pretty stranger from the kitchen. The one that he’s most definitely not attracted to and the one is zero percent his type.

That smile is still there, the one that’s a little bit sad and a little bit knowing and a little bit regretful. He offers a hand in invitation, and Kihyun eyes it warily before lifting his head to meet ice blue eyes. Vaguely, the though idle and detached, Kihyun wonders why he hadn't noticed the color of them before.

“I know where your friend is. The one with white hair.”

If this is help, Kihyun is reluctant to take it. But Minhyuk is his friend, and while he might be older, he acts like a child at every possibility. He’s Kihyun’s responsibility, which means finding him sooner rather than later is high on Kihyun’s list of priorities. When boiled down like that, Kihyun doesn't hesitate.

“Fine.”

Kihyun takes the offered hand, trying to ignore the way the stranger beams at him, all teeth and gums, overwhelmingly unattractive and definitely not Kihyun’s type. At all. 

“Wonho.”

“What?” Kihyun glances at his face, not having realized he’d glanced away to scour the crowd for Minhyuk’s shock of white hair. You would think spotting a drunk Jack Frost in a crowd of drunk college students would be easy, but it's not.

“My name.” There’s something strangely expectant in the male’s eyes, like maybe he thinks something stupendous will happen. “My name is Wonho.”

“Kihyun.” When that sad smile returns -- and that’s what it is, Kihyun knows that now, he can see the sadness in Wonho’s eyes and in the weakened twist of his lips, and it somehow hurts him inside to witness -- Kihyun turns away, back to eyeing the floor and trying to figure out where Minhyuk might have gone.

He almost doesn’t catch Wonho’s muted _I know_. Almost. But Kihyun doesn’t mention it, either, allowing Wonho to pull him in the direction of the stairs to the second floor.

The noise of the party eases considerably as they ascend, and from this vantage point, Kihyun has a much better view of the living room floor. But Minhyuk still isn't there. Kihyun turns to Wonho, a protest on the tip of his tongue but it dies when he sees Wonho shake his head. The blond locks fall into his eye as he does so, and Kihyun has to resist the strange urge to brush them away.

“He was dancing with two of my friends earlier. I may not know him, but I know them, and if they’re not down here…”

Oh. And Kihyun suddenly gets it. Just as sudden is the flush that burns into his cheeks, the one that has Wonho reaching out to him with pale fingers. A thumb drags over his cheek, slow and almost marveling, and Kihyun stares blankly at Wonho, caught in a strange place between confused and awestruck. Wonho, it seems, is caught there, too.

For a moment, nothing else exists. Nothing but Wonho’s thumb on the rise of Kihyun’s cheek, the heat between their bodies, and the way Wonho looks at him as if blinking will cause him and this moment to disappear. 

And then the moment is broken, shattered when a drunk couple stumble down the stairs, nearly pushing Kihyun down with them until a timely tug from Wonho yanks him back up. Their bodies collide, Kihyun’s pressing his into the railing, but Wonho doesn't seem to mind as his arms snake around Kihyun’s waist and drag him close.

“Ki,” he breathes, voice soft and alarmed, and Kihyun can't help the way he leans in. Thinking has become difficult, and it becomes much more so when his eyes fall to Wonho’s lips. They sit there innocuously, pretty and pink, twitching like they're meant to shift into a smile, and Kihyun is struck with the thought that as soft as they look, he'd like to test their merit before making any conclusions. Just one kiss is all he needs. Maybe two.

The temptation of the thought is bad enough, but when Kihyun finds himself face to face with Wonho, face to face with the prospect of a kiss, his attention and focus unravels. The temptation is bad enough on its own, but when faced with a possibility, a probability, then the temptation, oh the temptation...

“We’re looking for Minhyuk, right?”

Wonho’s voice cuts through Kihyun’s thoughts like a knife through butter, and he stares muzzily at Wonho for a long moment, unable to decipher what he means, unable to recall who Minhyuk is and why he’s looking for him when Wonho is right here, right in front of him, and looking oh so kissable.

And Wonho seems to know it, because he pushes Kihyun away a moment, that sad, knowing smile in place, and gestures up the stairs. “Come on, Kihyun. You’re worried for your friend, right?” When Wonho turns away, taking the vision of his lips with him, Kihyun’s head begins to clear. Slowly. And when Wonho starts up the stairs again, his hand still warm around the one he holds, Kihyun’s head continues to clear, and he begins to think as he follows.

“Who is he with?”

The words are slow, cracked around the edges and faltering, and Wonho’s hands squeezes his in a manner that Kihyun thinks is meant to be reassuring. It is. Kind of.

“My friends. We came to the party together. Last I saw them, they were dancing together.” Wonho stops at the top of the landing to the second floor, peering down one hallway, and then another. He heads off down the second, humming idly beneath his breath. Kihyun has to hurry to keep up, even with their hands clasped.

“I’ve never seen you on campus before.”

Wonho shakes his head. “We know the family.  My family and Kayee’s -- Jackson’s -- are old friends.”

“Oh.” Kihyun thinks back to the conversation he’d had with Jooheon, Changkyun, and Minhyuk outside. He tries to imagine Wonho’s parents as spies, and somehow... Somehow he just can’t do it.

Wonho stops outside of a door, rapping on it with the knuckles of his free hand. “Hyungwon, Hyunwoo?”

There’s silence inside, then the low murmur  of conversation. The door opens, and Kihyun nearly chokes he sees that the male on the other side is nude. Gloriously, unequivocally nude. And while Kihyun has the decency to avert his eyes, all Wonho does is sigh.

“Hyunwoo, what have I told you about answering the door naked?”

Hyunwoo, the stranger at the door that has a body like a brick shit house, grins and leans against the door frame, one arm extended over his head. When Kihyun glances around him, he can see two bodies sprawled across the bed. Save for a thin sheet that covers them both at the waist, they, too are naked. And from the white hair of one of the bodies, the one face-down in a pillow, arm thrown over the chest of the other stranger that watches them from half-open eyes, Kihyun can see that Minhyuk is inside.

“So you found him?”

The unfamiliar voice has Kihyun’s attention snapping back, and his eyes shift to meet Hyunwoo’s. It’s easy to see he’s the one being spoken of. And from the tension in Wonho’s shoulders, he knows it, too.

“Yes. He’s looking for his friend. The one you took to bed.”

Hyunwoo sighs, turning to glance over his shoulder. “He was rather fun to play with. Are you sure we can’t keep him a little while longer?”

“Minhyuk is going home,” Kihyun says then, stepping around Wonho and squaring off against the one that blocks his way. Hyunwoo is taller, but not by much. “Minhyuk and I are both going home. He has a class in the morning and at least ten hours of painting and set work remaining on his one act play. And I’m going to make sure he gets home.”

Hyunwoo leans down until they’re eye level, and Kihyun can feel the way Wonho stiffens, the way his grip tightens, and he can see how the stranger in the bed sits up a little, the sheet pooling in his lap. For a moment, everything is silent, and form the floor below, Kihyun can hear the distant pulsing beat of the music. The tension between them is palpable, and just as Kihyun feels Wonho stepping forward, Hyunwoo smiles. “Alright. We had our fun. Give us a minute to get dressed. It’s probably against party etiquette to go back downstairs naked. Not much of a costume, right? Although I am quite sure the girls would enjoy it...”

Kihyun frowns, stepping back. “Right.”

And with that agreement, Hyunwoo steps back and the door closes. Beyond it, Kihyun can hear the low murmur of conversation and the rustling of the sheets and clothing. 

When Wonho tugs on his hand, Kihyun turns to eye him. “What?” He doesn’t meet for his voice to be so crisp, but it is regardless, and he can see the way Wonho flinches, the way the pride in his eyes dims.

“I-- ...nothing.”

Kihyun thinks about calling him on it, but then the door is opening. The stranger from the bed holds a groggy Minhyuk out to him, and Kihyun frowns as he takes the burden. At least they had the decency to dress him as well.

The stranger smiles, a flash of sharp teeth that Kihyun dimly acknowledges much be fake and glued in place, then says, “He might have had a little much to drink, but he should be fine come morning.” One glance to Minhyuk’s closed eyes and the way his head lolls has Kihyun sighing, but he doesn’t bother to fight it. If Minhyuk is hungover in the morning, that will be his problem, not Kihyun’s. Thankfully, Kihyun has a number of private rehearsals and practices tomorrow,  and Minhyuk won’t be able to con him into skipping to help out. He will suffer, and he will learn.

“Thanks,” he says instead, tone clipped as he turns away. He pauses long enough to pull Minhyuk’s arm over his shoulders, then head for the stairs.

Wonho stands for a moment, watching him go and scrambling for something to say.

“Do you need any help?”

Kihyun doesn’t stop, doesn’t even look back. “We’ll be fine. Thanks.”

And just like that, Kihyun leaves.


	2. ombre (shadows)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You have a wonderful voice.” Something about the smile Wonho wears twists Kihyun’s insides into knots. 
> 
> Kihyun wants to say _thank you_ , because Wonho’s comment feels like a compliment, but somehow the words get lodged in his throat, trapped behind a rising tide of something that tastes a little bit like sadness and a lot like nostalgia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited as I went through it and again shortly before posting, but still technically unbeta'ed. (I might also be running on little more than sugar, coffee, maybe 6 hours of sleep, and an 18 hour day.
> 
> Soundtrack this time was largely Ludovico Einaudi (which is where I'll be pulling my chapter titles from), Eric Whitacre (particularly Fly To Paradise), Christina Grimmie's Snow White, and Taylor Swift's Safe & Sound from the The Hunger Games soundtrack.

Getting Minhyuk back to their shared dorm is about as easy as dragging a belligerent and half-asleep child down the street. Except the child in question is also drunk, and he somehow manages to weigh approximately twice as much as he should. Objectively, Kihyun knows this is impossible; realistically, however, Kihyun wishes Minhyuk would have had the decency to not drink so fucking much. Especially on a school night.

“You’re going to owe me big time,” Kihyun snaps when he has to pause on the corner of Jackson’s street. As strong as he may be from years of toting around bags heavy with music books and textbooks for his courses, Kihyun knows his weaknesses, and he knows that he’ll be hard-pressed to carry Minhyuk all the way back to their dorm. He should have stopped to grab Changkyun or Jooheon, should have grabbed Jackson and asked for him to call a cab, should have done any number of things to make this easier upon himself, but no.

But no, Kihyun’s an idiot, and now he’s out in the cold with a drunken child and a long, long walk home. 

“Kihyun, wait!”

Correction: Kihyun is an idiot, and now he’s out in the cold with a drunken child, a literal child, and a long, long walk home.

“What,” Kihyun sighs as he pivots on his heel, fixing Wonho as he approaches with a look frustration. “If you’re here to tell me that your friends didn’t mean to fuck the coherency out of my roommate, you’re preaching to the choir.”

Wonho looks stunned for a moment, perhaps even a little bewildered, his lips forming around the words Kihyun has just spoken before an odd, self-deprecating grin pulls onto his lips. Kihyun doesn’t like the look of it, and he’s not sure if it’s because it’s different from the sad smiles he’d seen earlier, or if it’s because he thinks Wonho would look better with another of those devil-may-care smirks that he’d worn in the kitchen.

“I just wanted to ask if you wanted help.” Kihyun feels his lips twisting into a frown that furrows his brow, and he knows Wonho sees it, because he flinches away. It softens Kihyun’s frustration a little. But only a little. And only because it’s hard to stay angry at someone that behaves like a scolded puppy. “Without Hyunwoo and Hyungwon leering at you and your friend like vultures, I mean.”

Kihyun doesn’t really need to consider the offer. He’d left in a hurry and had made hasty decisions, and he knows better than that. But Kihyun’s not sure he can handle an entire walk back to their dorm with Wonho at his side. He’s not sure he wants Wonho to know where he and Minhyuk live, either.

But it’s a risk Kihyun’s just going to have to take, because it’ll take forever to get Minhyuk back alone, and Wonho had offered. And his friends are one hundred percent to blame for this entire situation.

“Fine.” Kihyun shifts his hold on Minhyuk, gesturing for Wonho to take the other side. “We live on the other side of campus, the LLC building. Think you can help me get him that far?”

Wonho hurries up, taking enough of Minhyuk’s weight that Kihyun’s shoulder stops protesting at him. It’s kind of nice considering he needs his shoulders in proper working condition tomorrow for his practices, and he tells himself to thank Wonho for it. Later. Not right now.

Taking Wonho’s compliance for the answer it is, Kihyun starts hobbling forward, keeping half of his attention on Minhyuk and the rest of the path ahead of them. He doesn’t get far before Wonho breaks the silence.

And really, Kihyun should have known. He should have fucking known.

“So what do you study?”

Kihyun shoots Wonho a sharp look, trying to quell the odd satisfaction he feels when Wonho shrinks away. If Minhyuk were awake and sober -- or just awake, because drunk Minhyuk may make questionable decisions, but he’s always been capable of tempering Kihyun’s savagery -- then he’d be on Kihyun’s case about not attacking pretty boys for no reason. 

Fucking Lee Minhyuk, always ruining his fun.

“Music,” Kihyun says as he turns back to the front. On Minhyuk’s other side, Wonho makes a soft sound of encouragement, and Kihyun’s lips purse as he struggles with how much more to say. Music majors are a strange breed, capable of understanding each other even when absolutely nothing else makes any sense. Other fine arts majors tend to understand the gist of their decision-making and reasoning skills, at least as far as their choice major goes, but other majors and those not pursuing further education just...don’t get it. And Kihyun really isn’t up for a debate on why he chose music over something as dependable as psychology or finance.

When Kihyun doesn’t continue, Wonho offers a hesitant, “Is there a type of music you prefer?”

Kihyun’s focus snaps over again, brow furrowed and lips pursed. This time Wonho doesn’t look away, watching Kihyun with a keen interest that makes Kihyun’s stomach flip. He glances away first, staring resolutely forward. “Vocal music. I’m a singer. And I have a double major in piano.”

Wonho makes another noise, one that sounds suspiciously like a laugh. Kihyun doesn’t dare glance his way again, not wanting to give him that satisfaction, but he can hear to soft laughter that follows, the laughter that makes Kihyun think Wonho knows more than he lets on. Or that he’s a pretentious dick.

“I should have known.”

He’s probably a pretentious dick, Kihyun decides as he purposefully steps to the side, into Minhyuk, and attempts to run Wonho out onto the street. It’s a childish retaliation, but Kihyun is defensive of his major, and he won’t let anyone make fun of it. “And why’s that, hm?”

Wonho seems oblivious to the fact that he’s walking on the edge of the curb, seconds from stepping off and into the street. Kihyun catches the smile Wonho fixes him with from the corner of his eye, regardless of how he’s trying to pretend like he’s not paying attention. It’s another of those sad smiles, a knowing smile, the sort of smile you give to a child that requests the impossible, or to someone that is a lost and hopeless cause. 

“You have a wonderful voice.” Something about the smile Wonho wears twists Kihyun’s insides into knots. 

Kihyun wants to say  _ thank you _ , because Wonho’s comment feels like a compliment, but somehow the words get lodged in his throat, trapped behind a rising tide of something that tastes a little bit like sadness and a lot like nostalgia. Somehow, inexplicably, Kihyun feels as if perhaps he’s missing something, a key piece of information that would help him solve this puzzle if only he had all the pieces.

Kihyun wonders, vague and detached, if Wonho feels it, too, if this is why Wonho’s smiles are so disheartened, but the question dies before it leaves Kihyun’s tongue, caged by teeth and compressed lips and smothered by the knowledge that there’s no way such a thing could be possible.

“I should have known you’d be a vocalist, too.”

***

The trip back to the dorm hall is an exhausting one. 

Wonho is silent for the entire duration, expression set in a way that makes Kihyun uneasy. He doesn’t bring it up, but there’s something oddly unsettling about it that Kihyun just doesn’t like. It could be because the Wonho that accompanies him to his dorm is a far cry different from the Wonho he’d gotten to know earlier in the evening, the one that had first accosted him in the kitchen and then helped him find where his friends had taken Minhyuk. It’s so different from the smug, sassy personality he’d gotten used to, the same one that had seemed almost proud of him when he faced off against Built Like A Brick Shit House Hyunwoo. And Kihyun doesn’t like it.

Somehow, inexplicably, he feels like it’s his fault.

But that’s stupid. Kihyun hasn’t done anything. He hasn’t.

Regardless, Kihyun feels like he’s to blame, and it makes the entire walk back awkward and exhausting, so much so that by the time they reach the front entrance to the dorm building, his feet are dragging and his limbs ache with a heaviness that feels like exhaustion. 

Tomorrow, he decides resolutely, is going to suck something fierce. And he’s going to make Minhyuk suffer for every single minute of this awkward encounter as soon as he’s sober enough to understand why Kihyun has decided he needs to pay.

Thoughts set on the future and the horrible things he intends to cause for Minhyuk, Kihyun doesn’t realize they’ve stopped until Wonho clears his throat and drags him from his thoughts.

“What?” Kihyun doesn’t mean to sound so angry -- _so hateful_ \-- but he’s tired and unhappy, and he’d like to think he can’t help it.

Even so, he feels guilty about the way Wonho shrinks away from him. Again.

 _Fuck_.

Wonho recovers himself after a moment, gesturing at the building. “This is the place, right?”

Kihyun glances forward, then up. The frown he’d been wearing eases some, and he drags his free hand through his hair. If Minhyuk were awake, he’d be scolding Kihyun for ruining his work again. Thankfully, he’s still out. 

“Yeah,” he says after a moment, reaching into one of his pockets for the key card he’d brought with him. “Just-- hold on.”

It’s no easy feat, shifting Minhyuk until he can dig into his back pocket without dropping the male, but then Kihyun’s producing his card and swiping it through the door. He tries to ignore the way Wonho studies it with renewed interest.

“What was that for?”

Kihyun ignores him as he pulls open the first set of doors and slides in sideways, taking care not to slam Minhyuk into one of the glass panes although he’s sure both the sight and sound of it would bring him a perverse pleasure. He’s also silent as they navigate through the second set of doors, this one not guarded by card access, and continues that streak as they pass through the main room where a handful of people are watching some dark, undecipherable mess on the big television.

It’s some Halloween party, no doubt, students like himself that had opted to stay in for the night rather than attending one of the many parties that had been going on. Kihyun almost wishes he would have stayed in with them. Then he wouldn’t be in this mess right now.

Except he would be, because Jooheon or Changkyun would have eventually called him to say they couldn’t find Minhyuk, and Kihyun would have sworn at the both of them for being idiots before throwing on a pair of sweats and a coat and heading out to find and bring his friend home.

It’s only when they’ve passed through the main room and are shuffling down the hallway toward the lift that Kihyun finds his manners again and answers Wonho’s question.

“The dorm halls are private residences, so access to them is protected by the use of ID cards at all times. This building is the Living and Learning Center -- LLC for short. It’s a dorm hall, but it also has classrooms, so it’s accessible to everyone during daylight hours when classes take place, but only to residents after hours.”

Kihyun casts a curious glance at Wonho and is unsurprised to find the other’s face is a mask of confusion. 

“Why?”

Kihyun’s lips twist in something like frustration as he presses the button for the lift again. There’s a reason he was never made an RA in the building. There’s also a reason he was never asked to help welcome in new students. Moments like this would be that reason.

“Why what?”

“Why is it only private sometimes? And why not to just students? I mean, I know I don’t live here, but I wouldn’t really want some stranger coming in off the street and wandering around in what’s technically my home.

As the doors to the lift open, Kihyun glances over to Wonho, amazed at his response and how upset he looks. It takes him a moment to figure out what to say, to piece together the words in his head so they don’t sound like a jumbled mess when he finally spits them out.

“For one, there’s another security measure on each floor that people have to get past. Strangers can’t just walk in and get very far, although some try.” Kihyun leans back against the wall then, using it to help prop Minhyuk up so that his shoulder can get a little bit of a respite in between floors. He catches the look Wonho gives him, a sharp one with pursed lips and a definite frown, but ignores it. 

“For another, there are classrooms here that people need access to. Guest speakers, for example. And the building is often used during tours. Campus tours will stop by here to show off the building that doubles as both a classroom and a residence, and will show off the dorms found here because they’re not like the dorms in other buildings, but they’re not like the student apartments found on the other side of campus. We’re like the step between the two, and it’s appealing to a lot of people.”

Another quick glance at Wonho shows that he still doesn’t get it, but Kihyun doesn’t mind. It’s not like he has to live here.

When the doors open onto the right floor, Kihyun straightens, moving to pull Minhyuk up with him, but Wonho is quicker and he scoops Minhyuk up into his arms in a single smooth motion that Kihyun almost envies.

Almost.

_Showoff_.

Before Kihyun can question him, Wonho offers a small smile. “You were favoring your shoulder on the way into the building, and the hallways in here are more narrow than the paths outside.” When it becomes clear Kihyun is readying a protest, he adds, “You have stuff to do tomorrow, right? Music stuff. I don’t want to hear that you can’t do your think because my friends fucked the coherency out of your roommate.”

It’s so eerily similar to what Kihyun had been thinking earlier that it’s almost funny. And if the situation were any different, Kihyun might laugh. Instead, he shakes his head and steps out of the elevator with a sigh that can probably be heard in China. “Fine. Come on, then. Our room is just down the hall.”

Down the hall is actually down one hall filled with classrooms, through a door that is ID card protected, then down another hallway, but Wonho doesn’t protest. If anything, he’s pleased. Or, at least, that’s what Kihyun would like to imagine the quiet noises he makes mean. The only time Kihyun glances back to check shows the sight of Wonho studying the walls, covered in an array of pictures from the resident artists and photographers that share the hallway.

It could almost be considered cute, if only Kihyun could bring himself to use the word.

Wonho is quiet again when they reach the room Kihyun and Minhyuk share. If Kihyun cared more, he might wonder why, but he’s busy digging his room key out of his pocket and trying to fumble it properly into the lock without dropping it. If Wonho finds his struggle amusing, he doesn’t comment. But after four failed attempts, including one where Kihyun drops his key, Wonho does take it from him, careful fingers gently fitting the key in the lock before twisting the knob and pushing open the door.

“Where’s his room?”

Steps into their living room, waiting for Wonho to come inside before shutting the door behind him. “To the left,” he says, gesturing off in that direction. “His door should be open.” Kihyun waits to make sure Wonho’s headed off that way before heading to his own room.

He’s just slipped out of his wings and halo when there’s a knock at his door. The fact that it’s Wonho out there isn’t lost on Kihyun, but he’s still in the process of stripping out of his button up when he opens the door.

Wonho looks surprised. Very surprised. His cheeks color flush with pink and it takes him a moment to compose himself before he pointedly shifts his attention elsewhere. “I didn’t feel comfortable putting him into pajamas, so I put him on the bed and covered him up, if that’s okay?”

Kihyun hums an agreement as he turns and heads back into his room, digging around for a tank top to throw on. “That’s fine. He’s slept in worse. At least he has a shirt on.”  _And pants_ , Kihyun thinks, but doesn’t add. “He’s also in his own room, which is more than he deserves.”

Wonho makes a startled noise then, one that sounds a lot like an aborted laugh, but when Kihyun glances over his shoulder to study him, Wonho’s face is composed. His eyes, however, shine with an amusement that bring a smile to his own lips.

“What?”

Wonho shakes his head, smile blooming on his lips. “You’re so savage sometimes, I can’t believe it.”

Kihyun turns around, folding his arms in defiance. “And what’s that supposed to mean? Allow me to remind you that your friends were the ones that fucked my roommate into a stupor. It might have also been your friends that got him so drunk he forgot he has class in the morning.” 

Wonho looks like he wants to argue. He really does, but after a moment he shrugs instead. “That’s fair. They’re a lot to handle. I’m surprised your friend is still in one piece.”

Kihyun smirks, shaking his head as he turns back to digging through his laundry basket for a pair of sweats. “It takes a lot to take down Lee Minhyuk for anything longer than a couple minutes at a time. I should probably thank your friends, but Minhyuk would probably see that as a betrayal of his Bro Code, or something, and I’d never hear the end of it.” 

When he finally unearths one of his more clean pairs of sweatpants, it’s with a proud little cry that earns another of Wonho’s small, amused noises. It also has Kihyun swinging around, because while he didn’t forget that Wonho was there...he might have actually forgotten that Wonho was there. And by the expression Wonho wears, Wonho has guessed as much and finds it hilarious.

“Can I help you?”

Wonho shake his head. “No, carry on. I can wait until you’re done.”

Kihyun frowns. “What are you waiting for exactly?”

“I don’t know how to get back downstairs.”

The frown Kihyun wears deepens, and he glances to the clock on his desk to gauge the time and weigh his options. There aren’t many at this time of night, and Kihyun would like to think he isn’t completely heartless.

Even so, it takes him a moment to make the offer, considering each word with care before speaking. “Would you want to stay here tonight? Minhyuk and I have two extra rooms. Our other two roommates got better offers at the last minute, so it’s just Minhyuk and I right now. The beds don’t have sheets on them, but we have extra sets. There’s also the couch if you’d rather watch tv for a while or something. As long as you don’t mind that I’d be up early and making noise in the kitchen, there’s that option, too. If you don’t want to stay, I can walk you back to the lobby and you can call one of your friends to come meet you.” 

It takes a moment for Wonho to shake his head, a small smile on his lips. “You’d let some guy you just met sleep in your apartment? I could be a serial killer. Or a criminal.”

Kihyun shrugs, lips twisting in a manner that is wry and amused. “I’m going to lock my door. I have a baseball bat in my room that I am fully capable of using, and unless you can jam our cell coverage and internet, I can call or email for help should you prove to be more than a baseball bat can handle.”

Wonho is silent for a moment, quiet in a manner that should be disconcerting, but Kihyun is too tired to really question it. He watches instead as Wonho ducks his head, an odd smile on his lips that makes Kihyun wonder if there’s something Wonho isn’t telling him.

But then it’s gone, lost as Wonho lifts his head and offers a charming smile. “The couch is fine. I’m a heavy sleeper, so you won’t wake me in the morning. I think I saw a blanket in there. If you don’t mind, I’ll use that tonight.”

Then he’s gone, too, disappearing from the doorway and heading back down the hallway. After a moment, Kihyun hears the muted sound of the television as it’s turned on and switches between channels before settling on an early morning weather show.

The entire exchange leaves Kihyun feeling as if he’s just missed something, but unsure what it could be and why it’s so important that he figure it out.

***

Morning comes all too soon, dousing Kihyun in light from the window whose blinds he’d forgotten to close the evening before. It’s upsetting because his alarm hasn’t even gone off yet, but Kihyun supposes it’s for the best when he recalls the events from the previous night and remembers that his roommate is too hungover to move and that there’s a stranger sleeping on his couch.

Admittedly, it’s a very pretty stranger, a stranger that Kihyun might find attractive if he had a type...

But Yoo Kihyun does not have a type, and Wonho is still very much a stranger.

Albeit a terribly pretty one.

Even so, that’s his roommate down the hall, likely so hungover that he hasn’t woken yet, and he has a rehearsal with a freshman for her first forum of the year in a little over two hours. Kihyun has things to do before he can leave to meet her, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t step up his game and do the whole Good Roommate thing. 

After ten minutes spent digging for clothing that is both mostly clean and comfortable -- no easy feat considering he hasn’t done laundry yet this week and won’t be able to until late tomorrow night -- Kihyun unlocks and opens his door to a dark, quiet hallway.

A full year of living in the same dorm room with the same people and furniture grants Kihyun with the grace and ability to slip silently down the hall and into the kitchen area just off from the living room. From over the island where he and Minhyuk often share midnight and two am snacks, Kihyun can see Wonho on the couch, lying in a comfortable sprawl. He looks asleep, not even moving as Kihyun begins to dig through the cabinets for breakfast ingredients, but looks can be deceiving, and Kihyun aims to be as quiet as possible anyway. After all, just because he’s comfortable with waking shortly after the asscrack of dawn doesn’t mean he feels obligated to share the early morning with those around him.

Five minutes later finds Kihyun in the middle of making miso soup, rice, and eggs. After two years of knowing Minhyuk and a year and a half of living with him, Kihyun’s learned what his roommate can handle during his hangovers, and he knows exactly what Minhyuk will want to wake up to. Aside from a bottle of water, a bottle of painkillers, and a waste basket, at least. The soup is for him. The rest is supposed to be Kihyun’s breakfast, a simple and easy complement to the coffee he’s already sipping on, but it would seem that’s not the case today.

“What’re y’cooking?”

The sleep-slurred voice has Kihyun turning in his spot, a spatula raised in what might be surprise, but might also be defense. Because if there’s an intruder, he’s going to beat them to death with a spatula, so help him, God.

But it’s not an intruder. It’s just Wonho, the couch blanket clutched around his shoulders and hair a mess of flat on one side and spikey on the other. He looks like a child whose parents woke him too early -- or too late -- and the image is completed when he yawns and drags the palm of one hand over an eye.

Kihyun hides his smile as he turns back to his food, checking the eggs to make sure they haven’t burned before moving back to the pot of miso soup. “Soup for Minhyuk. Breakfast for me. I have to leave in a little while. Rehearsals and practices all day.”

Wonho makes a soft noise from behind him, one that Kihyun takes as an acknowledgment. When he turns back around, pleased with the way the soup is progressing, he finds Wonho watching him with a smile that is oddly fond.

It’s a smile that fades into sheepish embarrassment the moment Wonho realizes Kihyun is watching him again. 

Kihyun should ask. He really should.

He doesn’t.

“Smells good. Eggs?”

“And rice,” Kihyun says, leaning back and propping his hip against the edge of the counter. “It’s my lazy breakfast for when I have early days and the cafeteria isn’t open yet.” And at this time of the morning, it never is. It won’t open for another thirty minutes, at least, and Kihyun would rather spend that time in the quiet of his apartment than in the noise of the cafeteria. “It’s protein and grain, and it’ll fill me up on days when I don’t have time to stop for meals between breakfast and dinner.”

Wonho’s expression shifts to something that Kihyun could almost call concern. “You don’t eat lunch? That’s not healthy.”

“Sometimes I’m so busy that I don’t eat,” Kihyun admits with a shrug. “My days usually start early regardless because of the classes I take, but because I’m double majoring in piano and I’m a junior, I’m often given side projects by my professors or I’m asked to play accompaniment for one of the other students. That’s what I’m doing all day today, actually. Three rehearsals with freshmen and sophomores preparing for their first forum of the year, working out the details and practicing for a project with another piano major for a Christmas event that his frat is hosting, two rehearsals with other instrumentalists that needed an accompanist, and then practicing for a forum I’m in that takes place next week.”

Wonho is silent for a moment as Kihyun ticks off his day’s commitments on his fingers, lips just slightly parted and eyes wide. The surprise he wears is easy to read, and it brings a satisfied smile to Kihyun’s lips. “Music majors are one of the hardest majors to pursue, even here, and I take my studies seriously. Anyone who says it’s easy is lying or hasn’t fully committed to the program.”

After a moment, Wonho seems to snap back to himself. His brow furrows and he studies Kihyun for a moment in surprise before shaking his head. “You’re insane.”

Kihyun laughs, soft and almost wistful, and turns back to the stove. “I wish. It would mean I have a reason for doing this to myself. But I don’t. I’m sane. Completely. Mostly.”

For a moment, quiet falls between them and it’s almost comfortable. Living with Minhyuk has left little room for quiet in a day that is already loud and brimming with music and lessons. But this, the quiet that falls between the two of them, a quiet punctuated only by the sizzle of the eggs in the skillet, is comfortable and easy, and Kihyun thinks that he could almost get used to it.

It’s almost a shame that he’ll probably never see Wonho again.

“Are you hungry?”

Kihyun can hear the way Wonho shifts in his blanket, the way it rubs against his clothing. It’s been so, so long since he heard such a thing, and it’s strange how his breath seems to catch him his throat on his next inhale.

“What?”

Kihyun takes a moment, rejoicing in the peace, in the quiet, in how easy it all comes. His teeth drag over his lip, followed by his tongue. “Wonho,” he says after a moment, more carefully this time, “are you hungry? I don’t have to leave for a while longer, and I usually eat breakfast here anyway. Would you like some food?”

This time when Kihyun glances over his shoulder, Wonho is watching him with the sort of expression that feels like a punch to the gut. It knocks the air from his lungs and nearly sends him to his knees, and Kihyun can’t even begin to fathom _why_.

“I-- yeah.” Wonho looks a little stunned at the offer, stunned and confused, but there’s something else there, a sort of lost bewilderment that Kihyun has only ever seen on the faces of victims following disasters and those living in war zones.

A small part of Kihyun, vague and indistinguishable, wonders when Wonho last had someone offer to cook for him. Another part, a part of him that almost isn’t even there at all and is silenced as soon as it’s been voiced, wonders when he last had someone offer to do _anything_ for him. 

“Good,” Kihyun says after a moment, turning back to the stove as he eyes the eggs critically. “How do you like your eggs?” 

“Eggs?”

“Eggs,” Kihyun repeats, teeth digging at his lower lip as he reaches to check the rice cooker on the counter next to him. It’s almost ready, and he could probably just give Wonho his if he doesn’t mind the eggs slightly scrambled. “You know, those fragile, breakable rocks that hens lay, the ones that chicks hatch from if they’re not being used for food.”

Wonho’s silence is clue enough that something is off, and Kihyun turns to level him with a disbelieving stare. “What, have you never eaten eggs before?”

It doesn’t seem like Wonho is expecting the question, because he shakes his head even before Kihyun finishes the question, looking for all the world like a child being scolded. It eases the scalding heat of Kihyun’s frustration, and he sighs before turning back to the stove. He’s never heard of or met someone that’s never even heard of eggs before, but there’s a first time for everything.

Dimly, Kihyun thinks back to the conversation he and Wonho had had in passing the night before, how his parents and Jackson’s -- Kayee’s, he’d said then -- are old friends. He wonders...but doesn’t ask. It’s not his place, and it’s not like he really cares. For all he knows, it’s part of Wonho’s religion, or a diet thing. He’s heard of and participated in weirder things. “They’re good. Just...trust me.”

“I trust you,” Wonho parrots back without missing a beat, and when Kihyun glances back over his shoulder, it’s to a smile that is an odd combination of shy and pleased, and Kihyun--

Kihyun needs a pair of sunglasses, or something, because Wonho’s smile is somehow brighter than the sun and he’s about to go blind in his apartment’s kitchen.

“Alright,” he says, attempting to distract himself. And it works. Mostly. “Do you mind if they’re scrambled or would you prefer to try it overeasy? Scrambled together is more like one flavor, cooked all the way through. Over easy is more like two different flavors, and the yolk, the yellow part that gives the eggs their color, is runny. Semi-solid liquid, I mean. On the inside.”

Kihyun hears more than sees Wonho perk. “Over easy please!”

He makes a face, shooting it over his shoulder at Wonho. “Ew.” But there’s no heat to it for once, perhaps because he knows that he can’t pick away at Wonho like he often does with Minhyuk. Minhyuk, at least picks right back. Wonho, however.... Wonho just doesn’t. “Why? I mean, how can you eat something that’s still runny like that? It always makes me feel like I’m biting into something and it’s bleeding out on my tongue.”

In that instant, something flashes across Wonho’s face that Kihyun doesn’t have the time to name, much less something he possesses a name for. If he had to put a name to it, he’d call it hunger, like the hunger of a beast, something primal and dark, something meant for deep forests and dark fairy tales. It has a tendril of cold trailing down his spine as a shudder works its way through him.

But in the next instant it’s also gone, and if Kihyun didn’t pride himself on his performer’s ability to read a room and the crowd of people inside, he’d wonder if he’d seen it at all.

“...Kihyun?”

Kihyun’s head shoots up. His eyes lock with Wonho’s, and he’s surprises to see an odd concern there on the male’s face. “Yeah?”

“Are you okay? You, uh. You disappeared for a moment there.”

Kihyun frowns, thinking back to that flash, to the hunger of a beast and the darkness of a forest beyond human years. It seems odd now, out of place, and Kihyun finds himself annoyed at himself for imagining such a thing. There’s nothing dark or scary about the male leaning into the edge of the kitchen island, the one now looking for all the world like a confused child.

“I’m okay,” he says after a moment, words more decisive than he really feels. “Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

Wonho shrinks back into the blankets, and the image banishes any thoughts Kihyun might have held about him being a monster. “Sorry, was the tv too loud? You said I could watch it, and I kept the volume low so I wouldn’t disturb you. I just have trouble sleeping in unfamiliar places, and a little bit of background noise usually helps to settle my mind enough to sleep.”

Kihyun shakes his head, lips quirking at the corners. “No, no. It wasn’t you. Last night was just really busy. I don’t usually go to parties, and Jackson’s party was a lot to handle. And then yesterday’s classes were a mess, and I was up for a while thinking about what I needed to practice and do today, you know?”

It looks like Wonho wants to agree, but like he also knows better than to pretend and lie, because he doesn’t really know, and they both know it. He eventually shakes his head and offers a muted _not really_ instead.

Kihyun shakes his head, focusing on the food as he dishes some of the rice into a bowl for himself. He leaves the rest in the cooker so Wonho’s helping will stay warm until his eggs are ready. “It’s okay. It’s another one of those weird music major things. We don’t really expect anyone else to understand that, so don’t feel bad.”

Wonho nods, but there’s something about it that tells Kihyun he’s upset to not understand. Kihyun ignores it for the time being, focusing on pulling out two more eggs and breaking them into the skillet without dropping in pieces of eggshell or splitting the yolk.

Even after that’s done, Wonho remains quiet. But it’s a different sort of quiet than earlier, a quiet that weighs heavy and stagnant in the air and rests on Kihyun’s shoulders like a physical entity. He feels it there, resting like an invisible monster, even as he eats his breakfast and cooks Wonho’s eggs. 

Where he’d been comfortable before, now Kihyun just wants to hurry up and get out of the dorm. He normally takes his time, gathering his stuff for the day and watching a little bit of news and weather before heading out, but now... Now Kihyun just wants to go.

The next several minutes pass in that way, the two of them caught in a terse silence that leaves Kihyun tense and uncomfortable. By the time Wonho’s eggs are ready, Kihyun’s nearly vibrating with his excess energy, and he’s barely touched his own breakfast. If he hasn’t managed to finish it by the time he leaves, he’ll put it in a Tupperware container and take it with him. In the meantime, he allows it to sit and focuses on his other tasks.

As Wonho picks up the fork he’d been given with his bowl of rice and eggs, he looks a little apprehensive, and Kihyun stops just long enough to make sure it all tastes okay before setting up Minhyuk’s soup and preparing another pot of coffee for whenever it is that Minhyuk wakes up.

Kihyun takes distinct care to avoid looking at Wonho as he does this, and he pointedly ignores the way Wonho looks at him. It’s a distraction he doesn’t need, one he won’t allow himself. Not now. Not today, and not after last night.

“You’re welcome to stay here until Minhyuk gets up,” Kihyun says as he measures half of the soup into a bowl and puts the rest into a container that he sets on the counter to cool. “It’ll probably be a few more hours until you see him, and even then you might not _see_ him so much as _hear_ him. This,” he adds, gesturing to the coffee pot and soup, “is his usual hangover cure, and I’m going to put a bottle of water and aspirin by his bed for when he wakes up. Don’t let him con you into helping him, because he got himself into this mess, and it’s his problem, not yours.”

Kihyun digs into the overhead cabinet for something to dump his breakfast into and for a travelling mug for his coffee. He continues talking as he hunts, brow furrowed in concentration. “If you want to leave, feel free to do so whenever. You don’t need an access card to leave. Just make sure you lock the door behind you. Whichever direction you take, you’ll end up either at the back stairwell or in the lobby for for this floor, which connects to the elevator. Take either to the ground floor, exit. You saw the way we came in last night, and the stairs on this side of the building exit facing out toward the film and media building. Get yourself to the sidewalk in front and you should be able to find your way back to the frat without problem.”

Wonho makes a noise of question, but Kihyun ignores it as he steps around the counter and heads back to his room to grab his bag of sheet music and binders. When he returns a minute later, tugging a beaning down over his head and adjusting the bag slung over his shoulder, it’s to the sight of Wonho at the island, food only just touched and expression a mixture of dazed and confused.

Kihyun tries not to let it get to him.

“If you have any problems, there’s a door at the end of the hall decked out to look like a giant spider web. Our RA stays there and should be in there until a little bit before one. Tell her you’re a friend of mine or Minhyuk’s and she’ll be happy to help you. Okay?”

When Wonho nods, Minhyuk steps around the island and rifles through the fridge in search of two bottles of water. One goes into his bag with his breakfast. The other he carries down to Minhyuk’s room where, true to form, the drama major is sprawled in a position that takes up more space than should be physically possible. Kihyun sets it on the bedside table and pulls out the bottle of aspirin he usually carries in his bag before leaving. He doesn’t bother hunting for Minhyuk’s waste basket in the mess of his room, deciding that it’s the penance he deserves for drinking too much and leaving his room in such a messy state.

“I’m going,” he says again, more out of habit than anything, and ignores the look Wonho shoots him as he grabs his coffee from the counter and heads out the door, pausing only long enough to lock it behind him and make sure he has his ID card before heading for the stairwell.

He doesn’t allow himself to stop and consider the expressions Wonho had worn, the one that had looked like an odd mix of bittersweet nostalgia or the other that had looked a little bit like the face of someone that had been somehow betrayed.

And Kihyun definitely doesn’t think back to the moment he’d been standing at the stove and had asked if Wonho had understood what he meant. Because if he allows himself to think about it, to  _really_ think about it... He’s not sure that it was a warring indecision on how to answer that he saw so much as something more along the lines of sadness, and knowing, and somehow knowing entirely too much.

And that...

Kihyun’s not sure what to think about that.

So he doesn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> This will be updated....not sure when. Probably after the fic bingo is over and I can focus on rewriting the outline and figuring out how to get from Point A, around Point H(oseok), and to Point Z without making it sound like an Avon romance novel. Because dammit, Hoseok, you were not in my plans.
> 
> Also, there are specific costumes for each MX member. Some are obvious. Some...not so much. Feel free to guess in the comments, if you'd like to.


End file.
